If enunciated properly, the word bitch can be demeaning to the point of devastation. The key to success when using this form of slander lies within several factors of deliverance.
In ascending order of importance, these factors of execution include:
4. Voice Quality
1. Selling the ‘B’
In order to further grasp the concept of the aforementioned criteria, one must journey through each of their respective degrees of impact. (For our purposes, we will refer to the insulter as the bitch-er, and likewise, the insulted as the bitch-ee.)
Audience: An appreciating audience is a must for the aftermath of a “bitch” execution. The undignified laughter of peers has a traumatic effect on the bitch-ee.
Voice Quality: This is where the talented shine. The voice quality characteristic, unattainable by most, is a predetermined ability given at birth to an elite few. A rich, booming voice can cut through the crowd, and just as easily tear through the self-esteem of the bitch-ee.
Setup: As a precursor to the slur, the setup expresses why the bitch-ee is in fact a bitch. Essentially, it gives validity to the bold accusation of the bitch-er.
Volume: Does the Pope shit in the woods? Any healthy implementation of the word bitch needs to be done with vigor and feeling, which is best expressed through volume.
Selling the ‘B’: This is the core of calling someone a bitch. Even if the former factors are given poor regard, the bitch-er still has the opportunity to redeem themselves by effectively selling the ‘B’. It cannot be stressed enough that the enunciation of the hard letter ‘B’, along with a dynamic facial performance, is the heart and soul of the bitch delivery.
In the midst of a crowded house party, Bartholomew is chugging a Smirnoff Ice Malt Beverage in an attempt to impress a flock of women. While gagging on the fruit flavored girly drink, the combination of his outdated prescription glasses and lack of coordination result in him dribbling the brew down onto the front of his sweater-vest. After Bartholomew gives out a self-loathing sigh, the witty and attractive Blake enters the room. Blake quickly assesses the situation and simplifies his conclusion into one thorough statement.
“Fuck Bart, why do you have to be such a sweater-vest wearing, Smirnoff chuggin’ ass BITCH.”
As Bartholomew shamefully digresses into a corner of the room, the party erupts into a ravenous sea of emasculating laughter.
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